


As Promised

by TheWritingSquid



Series: Only Thorns Left [4]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route Spoilers, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Post-Canon, Suicide, This is Feels Central Be Warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-27 19:28:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20765717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWritingSquid/pseuds/TheWritingSquid
Summary: Felix has long since grown numb to killing -- until he pulls his blade out of a red-headed bandit on a rainy day, and is brutally reminded of killing Sylvain, that fateful day on the Tailtean Plains.





	As Promised

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the promise they made to each other to die together :')

Rain pours from the sky as Felix’s blade plunges into yet another bandit. There had been twelve in this camp, and none of them had come even close to touching him. Pathetic fighters, all of them. What an utter waste of his time and skills. But that has been his lot ever since the war ended. One pointless fight after another, kill after kill with no worthy opponent in sight. He has grown numb to it all. Parry, dodge, plunge the blade in, withdraw, move to the next target. It’s boring, really, and to do so under this awful downpour only makes matters worse. At least it’s done, now. Felix pulls his sword out of the fallen bandit’s corpses--

And freezes, his heart hammering, his lungs clenching painfully.

He sees red hair soaked in water, plastered across a bloodied forehead. Sees the Kingdom’s armour instead of ragged furs, imagines Sylvain’s pained smile instead of the bandit’s grimace. In an instant, Felix finds himself thrown back a decade in the past, to large plains soaked by even worse rain, to armies colliding, elite battalions clashing into one another as he ran across the battlefield, his blade cutting a bloodied path through his enemies. 

Sylvain had met him. Foolishly thrown himself at Felix, not even riding his horse. He must have known he couldn’t win, and yet… _ It seems we’re about to kill each other_, he’d said, all good humour. Felix had seen through the lie; he could always tell when Sylvain was posturing--which was most of his life, really. And Felix had never been one to let falsehoods stand. He hadn’t that day either. His blade had gone through, fast and precise, as always.

It was after, that he’d begun to shake, as he pulled it out and Sylvain fell to his knees. As the fool laughed, blood coming out with every chuckle, only to wipe it out and look up. 

_ “Hey, Felix… Forget the promise. Just live. And flirt for me a bit, will ya?” _

Felix had said nothing, had let the tip of his bloodied sword touch the ground and watch Sylvain collapse in silence. The battle had moved on without him, but just this once, he had no desire to join it. He watched the rain patter into Sylvain’s hair for hours, let the water soak him to the bone, until he was shuddering every few seconds and could barely hold his hilt.

Deaths had long since stopped affecting him, but as Felix watches the red-headed bandit fall now, and he feels light-headed and nauseous. He hasn’t felt anything this strongly since the Tailtean Plains, despite countless victories across opponents, in Fódlan and elsewhere. Such triumphs have long since turned to ashes in his mouth, utterly meaningless.

The truth is, he has never broken his promise to Sylvain: he died the moment he plunged that sword through his friend’s chest, and has continued on by mere reflex, more beast than man. In the end, they _ did _ kill each other that day. Felix wipes his blade clean of the bandit’s blood, but he does not move away from the battlefield. He hasn’t flirted, as Sylvain had asked of him, but he figures his friend will forgive him. 

He’ll know soon enough, anyway.

In one decisive move, Felix turns the blade to himself and plunges it into himself. For a brief instant, the pain is intense, agonizing… but even that fades away quickly, and he falls to the cold, wet ground. Finally.

**Author's Note:**

> This one was obviously going to happen the moment I started this series. And now I need a drink or two.


End file.
